Dragon Age: What if
by gamer072196
Summary: A series of 'what if' one-shots surrounding my Wardens, Hawkes, and their companions. Mostly unconnected to each other and my other stories. Feel free to leave prompts and I will do my best to do one-shots based on them.
1. Feelings

_**A/N:**_ This one has been floating around in my head for a while, so I decided to put this up first.

Enjoy!

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She had arrived with Stroud a few months ago and she still managed to get certain feelings to rise from him, intentional or not. He was completely confused by this. She was a human, and a mage. He didn't care about the mage part, but that fact that she was a human and was able to get him to feel… different around her, despite his deep hatred of humans… It simply confused him.

Her name was Bethany Hawke, and she had been found in the Deep Roads along with Anders, who convinced Stroud to recruit her. He had overseen her Joining and, for some reason he couldn't understand, was actually **relieved** when it was determined that she had survived. He had fought hard to keep his usual uncaring demeanor, but he still couldn't figure out why it had been so difficult.

It was obvious that Velanna didn't like her, but that wasn't unexpected. One of the reasons he was such good friends with her was because of their shared hatred of humans, though she was somewhat... off, mentally. Oghren treated her like any other recruit, telling his stories and constantly bragging about how skilled he was. Sigrun seemed to get along with her for the most part. Then again, Sigrun tended to get along with most of the recruits anyway.

He was sitting in his room, looking through the various reports around the arling. All of them were addressed to him, Darrian Tabris, the Hero of Fereldan, Commander of the Grey. _Another revolt… These blasted shems don't know when to quit._

There had been several revolts after he ordered Amaranthine burned to the ground. Each time, he put them down hard. Sure, he could have gone with a more diplomatic solution, but he wasn't about to waste the time and effort to do so. He considered it payback, considering how humans would purge an alienage if the elves there revolted. Not many in the arling liked him, but he didn't care. None of them would dare to attack him, not with the Vigil so well-fortified.

He glanced at one of the reports, which mentioned something about a few Wardens were wounded during one of the routine patrols he had going around the arling to check for new darkspawn incursions. He stopped when it mentioned that Bethany was one of the wounded.

He immediately became concerned, though he beat it back down quickly. He had an urge to check on her in the infirmary. Some of the other wounded were elves, giving him a bit more incentive to go down to the infirmary. He decided to go ahead and do it. The only thing stopping him was himself anyway.

He left his room and headed down to the infirmary, which was located in the main grounds of the keep. He walked in, nodding to the healers as they acknowledged him. He had some respect for them, considering how they helped anyone in need, no matter their race.

He noticed several empty lyrium flasks lying about on the table that rested in the middle of the infirmary, surrounded by the cots that lined the perimeter. The elves that had been wounded were either unconscious, or sitting up and moving around with some stiffness in their joints. The other wounded Wardens were in similar condition, though he found his eyes being draw toward Bethany as she lay on her cot, her left leg bandaged at the thigh. She was conscious and massaging the area around the bandaging, possibly because it was sore, her long black hair resting on her shoulders.

She must not have noticed that he was approaching her- he barely realized it himself- because she quickly looked up and nearly jumped back in surprise.

"Oh! Uh… hello, Commander," she said, seeming like she was trying to regain her composure. "Do you need something?"

He simply shook his head, glancing at her wounded leg. He had a sudden urge to massage the area for her, but he quickly beat it down with a stick. _Foolishness._ "What happened?" he asked. He had read the report, but he was curious as to how she had wounded her leg.

It took her a few seconds before she responded, likely because she hadn't expected the question from him of all people. "Took an arrow straight through the muscle. The healers say I was lucky it didn't hit anything major."

He felt a smile appear on his face and soon forced himself to return to his usual indifferent expression. Unfortunately, it wasn't quick enough for Bethany to not notice. She raised an eyebrow in response and seemed to shift uncomfortably.

"Are you… alright, Commander?" She had a somewhat confused look on her face, her eyes seeming to pierce his own.

He nodded. "Get some rest." He turned around and left the infirmary, suddenly feeling a bit sad that he was leaving her presence. Again, he beat that feeling down. He had to constantly beat down those types of feelings when he was around Bethany, too much so and too often for it to be coincidence.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost ran into Oghren, who simply grunted in greeting.

"Hey, Oghren," he said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Do you need something?"

"I saw you go in the infirmary," he stated, crossing his arms across his chest. The sides of his moustache rose somewhat, indicating a smirk. "You were talking to that recruit. What was her name…? Bethany, right?"

"What are you talking about?" He furrowed his brow.

"You got a soft spot for her. I'll admit: she does look good… Never woulda thought you'd be interested."

"What are you talking about, Oghren?" He was starting to get annoyed.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud… You got the hots for her." He gave a wink.

Darrian gave an incredulous scoff. "That's ridiculous."

Oghren gave a scoff of his own. "If you say so." He turned and walked away.

Darrian couldn't help but think about what Oghren had said. _Is he right? Do I have… feelings for her?_ He sighed. _Sod._

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_**A/N:**_ Let me know what you guys think. Feel free to post prompt suggestions in the review section.


	2. A Different Path

_**A/N:**_ This one occurred to me randomly. What if Justice didn't join with Anders? What if he joined with Darrian instead?

Enjoy!

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_More humans._ Darrian scoffed at the sight of several bandits up ahead, their backs facing him. _Slay them now._

_ No, Justice. Not yet._

He had been joined with Justice for three years now. Justice seemed like the only one who truly realized the injustices that his fellow elves had gone through, and he was the only one who was willing to do something about it. It wasn't easy dealing with him sometimes. There were things Justice was determined to prevent him from doing, but Darrian was always able to block him out. He had to leave the Wardens just to get Justice to shut up about not doing anything, but that was the exception.

As he approached, he noticed that the bandits had cornered a pair of elves, slowly moving toward them with their blades drawn. He silently unsheathed his greatsword, Starfang, and moved towards the group, noticing flashes of blue coming from his skin as Justice tried to force his way through. _Back off, Justice. I've got this._ He was still persisting. _Back off now, Justice. I will let you take over if it is necessary._

A moment later, Justice stopped trying to take control, allowing Darrian to continue approaching the bandits. When he was within striking distance, he swung high. He decapitated two of the bandits, slicing the third across the back of his neck, severing his spine. The other three whirled around as he swung again on a downward angle, his blade cutting through another bandit's exposed neck and slamming him into the ground. The other two raised their weapons and one thrust low, Darrian easily parrying the blow and elbowing the bandit in the face. A loud 'crack' sounded as he broke the bandit's nose and he followed up with a hard punch to the bandit's throat, crushing his windpipe. As the bandit collapsed to the ground, choking, the last bandit turned and ran away.

_ Do not let him escape!_ He noticed another blue flash.

_ Cram it, Justice. The bastard isn't worth it._ He turned to the elves. "Are you alright?" he asked, sheathing his sword.

They seemed almost as terrified of him as they had been of the bandits, barely moving. Then, one said, "We… we're fine. They didn't touch us."

"Good. Val Royeaux isn't far. You should be able to make it there by nightfall." The two elves nodded and quickly started running in the direction of the city.

_ Damn it, Justice. You need to control yourself!_

_ You were holding back._

_ I don't need you for every damn fight. I told you: I will let you take control __**if**__ it is necessary. You listened well enough back in Amaranthine._

After he was certain Justice wasn't going to respond, he continued down the path after looting the bandits' bodies. He found a few silvers, though not much else.

He had been traveling all over, from Antiva to Rivain, killing any bandits or slavers he came across. He had recently arrived in Val Royeaux and immediately hated the city. Everything was so… _extravagant_. The nobles flaunted their wealth around and it sickened him. He decided that he would never return to Orlais again.

He continued down the path, eventually coming across a fallen tree that blocked him from going further. He looked at the base of it, noticing that it was cut down recently. He drew his blade in anticipation for an ambush. Suddenly, almost two dozen slavers appeared out of the tree line, surrounding him. There were too many for him to take on at once.

_ Justice. Now._

* * *

Justice took over as Darrian released control to him, blue cracks forming across his skin and his eyes glowing the same color. "You fiends will pay for your crimes!" he roared, charging at the nearest pair of slavers. He cleaved through the first before decapitating the second. He turned around and pulled an archer that was ten to fifteen feet away towards him, skewering the slaver on his blade.

Several of the slavers started to panic, though most of them charged at him. He charged at them and swung high in a circle, decapitating the first three before the rest started to duck under the blade. They started hitting him from all sides, but they couldn't find a weakness to exploit that wasn't covered.

"Enough!" he shouted, releasing a massive pulse of energy in all directions, sending the slavers flying. Dozens of thuds sounded along with more than a few cracks as the slavers landed some distance away. Several of the slavers in front of him were slowly recovering as he charged at them, slashing at them wildly. He managed to kill two of them, but the rest barely dodged out of the way. He sent another wave of energy, this one to draw the slavers toward him forcefully. The slavers ended up gathering in heaps around him, slowly trying to recover from being thrown about like rag dolls. He swung low in a circle, killing several and mortally injuring the rest.

He jumped over the bodies in front of him as he charged at a trio of archers, half of the remaining slavers he had to deal with. He sliced at waist-height, his blade burying itself deep into the archer's side. He pulled the blade out and chopped downward into the archer's skull, shattering it from the force of the blow. He summoned a crushing energy from the Fade and focused it on another archer, light 'dings' sounding as arrows ricocheted off his massive plate armor. The archer was soon crushed and he moved on the third archer, grabbing the slaver's throat. His whole hand glowed blue as he summoned more energy from the Fade, providing him enough strength in it to snap the man's neck like a twig simply by squeezing it.

He threw the archer at another charging slaver, sending both flying backwards several feet. He charged again and slammed his blade down on the living slaver, whose legs were pinned the force of the blow nearly cutting the man in half. He charged at the last two slavers, slashing across the first slaver's chest. The last slaver quickly turned and ran, getting about twenty or so feet away before being pulled backwards onto Justice's waiting blade. He let the body drop as he released control. His anger was spent… for the moment.

* * *

Darrian soon regained control of his body. He looked around at the carnage: mangled bodies spread amidst the severed limbs or heads. His whole body ached. _Damn it all, Justice. You can't keep pushing my body like this!_

_ It does not matter. Those fiends are dead._

_ It __**does**__ matter, Justice! One day you'll end up pushing my body so hard that I won't be able to handle it! What will you do then? Possess my corpse?_

_ Don't be absurd._

_ If you respect me like you say you do, then show it._

After a few moments, Darrian continued on down the trail, climbing over the fallen tree. After a half hour of walking, he made camp.

_ Resting again? There is still injustice about._

_ Unlike you, I actually need to rest sometimes. I can't fight while I'm exhausted, I've explained this to you a dozen times!_

_ It is a waste of time._

_** Everything**__ I do is a waste of time to you! I can't fight every minute of the day, I __**need**__ to rest. We are doing things my way, like it or not. Now cram it so I can get some blighted sleep!_

He made a fire as Justice continued to protest before eventually giving up, allowing Darrian to drift off to sleep.

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_**A/N:**_ Again, let me know what you think and feel free to leave me some prompts.


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